


driven to distraction, fighting with my weak hand

by thaliasgrace



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Olympics, Athletes, F/M, basically I was inspired by the Winter Olympics, figure skating, unfinished forever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-19 15:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thaliasgrace/pseuds/thaliasgrace
Summary: Bellamy Blake didn’t mean to become a figure skater. That just happened, and now he likes it, and he’s good at it, too. Good enough that he’s on track for the Olympics, until Raven Reyes falls on the ice and can’t skate anymore.He kind of figures that’s it, until Clarke Griffin refuses to skate with Finn anymore, and, just like that, he has a partner again.





	1. when something is broken

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a work in progress, probably with around 4 chapters of the same length as this one (so around 2000/3000 words!) I was heavily inspired by the Winter Olympics despite only watching some ice hockey and a bit of figure skating, and also looking at Maya and Alex Shibutani’s YouTube (they’re awesome, by the way). 
> 
> I don’t know much about figure skating, so, y’know. Don’t come for me. If you see any mistakes (both about ice skating and also just general ones) please let me know!

The end goal was never the actual Olympics. In fact, there had never really been an end goal for Bellamy. He had started skating because it had been cheaper to try than basketball, and Octavia was allowed to sit by the rink watching him if she wanted to, which she hadn’t been allowed to do anywhere else.

He hadn’t expected to be good at it. It had been a thing to keep him healthy and fit and it had honestly been something selfish, something he was doing for himself instead of for Octavia or for his mom or for, well, whoever. It had been time for him to be alone without being alone, a time for himself whilst he knew O was being cared for and safe.

He hadn’t expected to be good at it. But apparently he was a ‘natural’ and, in the words of Marcus Kane, his talent wasn’t something that could be allowed to go to waste.

And so Marcus had decided to teach him. Free of charge, because Marcus wasn’t blind and saw the holes in Bellamy’s shirt and the desperation, desperation that he hadn’t quite learned to hide yet, in his eyes. He taught him in the hours after the rink was supposed to be closed, and he was an ex- Olympic figure skater and a brilliant coach, and he was more of a father figure than Bellamy had ever had before, and so Bellamy had never been able to tell him that he didn’t really have a passion for the sport.

And then he _did_.

Once he got good at it, he realised that, hey, it was brilliant. It was freedom, and as he jumped and spun, he could forget everything. There wasn’t anything quite like the feeling he got when he nailed a particularly hard jump, nothing quite like when he skated to a stop at the end of a routine he knew he’d nailed and grinned at nobody and nothing and everybody and everything.

Every year, Marcus bought him new skates for Christmas, and it became like a tradition. Every birthday it was films, documentaries about figure skaters who made it big, videos about figure skating, and every Christmas it was skates, ones far better than Bellamy would be able to afford himself.

Octavia tried it, too, once she was old enough, although it didn’t take her long to realise she preferred speed skating, the breathless thrill that came with the wind in her hair, going so fast she couldn’t even see the crowds that called her name. Bellamy couldn’t really complain about the danger- it wasn’t like figure skating didn’t come without its fair share of injuries, after all, and it was probably his own fault, making her sit by the rink by herself with nothing to do but watch the skaters.

He didn’t quite realise he was good (not just good for a poor kid whose coach had probably only started helping him out of pity, or good for a kid from _Texas_ , of all places to learn how to figure skate) until Marcus entered him in competitions, and he actually won some money. Not much, granted, but enough that he was able to treat O and Marcus to dinner (not like that was enough to pay Marcus back for, well, anything, but it was a start) and only worry marginally about how overpriced the garlic bread was.

He started to realise that figure skating could be freedom in more ways than one.

And then people started to notice him, and he was eighteen and out of high school, and Marcus told him firmly that college was great, but college was something that he could come back to later, and figure skating wasn’t, and besides, with figure skating he would be able to support himself for college later and probably a whole lot besides.

 _You’ve got it, son,_ Marcus had told him, clapping him on the back, and Bellamy was too dazed over the fact that, for once in his life, he had options, a future, to ask what ‘it’ was or notice the ‘son’ that Marcus dropped in, casually, like it meant nothing. (It meant everything.)

Octavia started to win competitions, too, despite her age, and then it all kind of snowballed.

He asked Marcus about paired skating, because, honestly, and he thought he would do better if he didn’t feel so alone out on the ice. Bellamy Blake wasn’t a solitary creature, after all, and so Marcus did his little figure skating faerie godmother thing, and Raven Reyes appeared, effortlessly beautiful and incredibly fucking talented, and it felt like everything was slotting into place. Like for once, he was lucky.

He was eighteen, and he felt drunk on happiness as he won every competition he entered, even if there was that annoying Clarke Griffin who skated at the rink with Raven’s boyfriend, Finn, and was… Well, she was talented, but her mom was an Olympic figure skater (two gold medals, one silver) and now was a doctor and a coach and an all round badass, if a little (lot) cold, and her dad had played ice hockey (one gold medal, two silver, one bronze), and her mom was kind of a big deal in figure skating and coaching, still. He thought that was why she was there, training, at first, and not because of any actual talent she had. Once he realised that wasn’t actually the case, that ice skating was in her blood and she was genuinely good at it, it was too late. She hated him, and he couldn’t convince her that he was actually a good guy, probably because, as Raven put it, he kind of was an asshole.

He liked to think he was sort of a nice asshole, though. Not a proper one- not horrible, just a bit annoying sometimes, and a bit too grumpy all of the time.

Like Miller, or Murphy, both of whom Clarke got on with fine. (Well, Murphy sometimes skated a thin line between regular asshole and asshole asshole, but whatever. He was nice deep down, and he was getting better.)

“Neither of them ever told her she only got where she is because of her mom, Bell,” Octavia told him. “And neither of them call her princess.”

Bellamy really needed to stop doing that, yeah. At that point, though, it was habit, plain and simple.

And then he didn’t have time to think about Clarke Griffin, because they were getting ready for Nationals, which was in six months, and after that, well, then it would be the Olympics. If they got in.

Bellamy was fairly confident him and Raven would. He also thought O would, as a speed skater, and then Miller (bobsleigh) would get in with his Team of Assholes (as dubbed by a cheerful Raven) Roan, Wick and Jasper. Then there was Murphy, speed skating, and the frankly terrifying Lincoln and then Gina for the half pipe, and Monty and Harper as singles figure skaters, along with Maya, the Canadian at their base, for alpine skiing.

Bellamy loved them all, even the ones he didn’t talk to much, like Maya and Wick and Monty. They all loved their sports, after all, and they were all incredibly dedicated- you had to be, to be looking at the Olympics with a realistic attitude of _we could do it, we could get in the fucking team._

And then it all blew up in his face. Well, not just his. Mainly Raven’s.

He was in a competition. It wasn’t even a good one, an important one, really, just a competition that they were doing for practise, but most of their team in the crowd to support, even the bobsleigh Team of Assholes, because even assholes recognised family, even Clarke, who didn’t really talk to Raven and hated Bellamy. Even fucking Murphy turned up, because he liked their routine and didn’t have anything better to do.

It was just normal, routine, right up until Raven fell.

She had been distracted before they’d gone onto the ice. Bellamy had noticed, but chalked it up to anxiety about the Olympics or something to do with Finn (they were going through a rough patch) or just general tiredness. He didn’t think it would matter, and then it did.

Bellamy tossed her in the air, an easy move, one she had landed hundreds of times before.

She didn’t land it this time. She wobbled, slow motion, and then slid, one skate coming up on her leg as she slammed into the wall.

The crash was louder than anything Bellamy had heard before in his life, but the defeating silence afterwards was worse.

He was moving without knowing what he was doing, skating over to her, staring, because there was blood fucking everywhere, and Finn was yelling something, and he could hear the commentators being horrified above, and then Clarke- of all people- was there, on the ice in sneakers, no skates, calm as anything, saying “I know first aid, Bellamy, let me-“

He only noticed her hands were shaking afterwards, replaying it in his head. In the moment he only remembered how cold he was, and how she was taking off her jumper and wrapping it around Raven’s leg, and instructing Lincoln to call someone, but Murphy was saying he already had, an ambulance was coming, and Dr. Griffin was on the way, too.

And Clarke said “everyone get back” and he couldn’t leave until Octavia and Miller pulled him away, and he was just staring, because, God, it was Raven, Raven who loved figure skating more than she loved her own life, and she might not be able to skate again.

She wasn’t. Permanent damage to her leg, the doctors said, and it was lucky that she was able to walk again. Skating was out of the question.

So no Olympics for Bellamy. He wasn’t even sad, because he couldn’t feel sad, right? He would truly be as bad of a person as Clarke Griffin said he was if he was sad about _that_ , when Raven’s career was over. When Raven was trying to learn to walk again.

And so he went to visit her. He didn’t know what to say, at first, placed the tulips he’d bought on the windowsill, staring at the far bigger bouquet on her bedside table. “Finn?” He asked, not knowing what else to say.

She shook her head, hair lying out on a halo on the pillow. “Clarke, actually. I think she feels guilty, although I’m not sure what for. She did everything she could.” She looked away at that, quieter than she normally was, looking smaller than she did even on the ice, lying there on the hospital bed.

Bellamy stood up from the chair he’d sat in just seconds ago, pressing a hand to his face. “Raven, I’m so sorry.”

“Jesus,” Raven said sharply, and Bellamy stared, because he didn’t know quite what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. “Bell. I was worried you were going to blame yourself. This was me, all me. I was- I was distracted, and I fell, and it sucks. God- God, it sucks. But this wasn’t you, Bellamy. This isn’t your fault.”

Bellamy sat down again simply because he didn’t know what else to do. “I threw you.”

“This was my own fault, Bellamy, and I don’t blame you for this at all.” Raven glared at him, and Bellamy told himself he would be an asshole if he disagreed with her now, her lying on a hospital bed, trying to put on a brave face when this was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Mostly he was worried that if he pushed now, she would start to cry, and if Raven started to cry, he would too, and he didn’t think he would be able to stop. “Now, we need to talk about you. What are you going to do? Singles? Do you have a partner?”

Bellamy stared at her. “What? Raven. There’s no way I’d be able to go to the Olympics now. I worked best with you, and even if I found a partner, it takes longer than six months to form a bond with them. You know partners matter in skating- you can’t throw people together and expect it to work out. You have to be friends. Close, at least. We’d never be good enough for Nationals in time.”

He knew that there were other things than the Olympics, of course he did, but he’d been looking at it as a goal for so long he didn’t know quite how to stop.

“Bellamy.” Raven looked at him like he was an idiot. It was her default move. “Bellamy, just because my career is over doesn’t mean yours has to be too. I’d never - look, I’d never forgive myself if you let this stop you.”

There was a pause. Bellamy stared at his hands.

“Now, go out and get yourself a partner, Bell.”

****

Two days after Bellamy told Marcus to look for a partner, Marcus told him that there was a partner he knew who he could skate with, and she was good.

“Sometimes,” Bellamy told him, “you scare me.”

“Right,” Marcus said, staring out over the ice as Murphy warmed up. “Well, your partner is Clarke Griffin.”

There was a pregnant pause. Bellamy didn’t know quite what to say.

“She has a partner,” Bellamy said. He still felt numb, even weeks after the accident, but he could still see Raven falling on the ice, still hear the crash echoing in his ears. “Finn Collins. Or is he staying with Raven-“

He didn’t think Raven would ask Finn to step down from figure skating for her (especially not after what she had said to him) and he didn’t think of Finn as the type to volunteer. Not that he didn’t like Finn, but, well, he kind of seemed like an asshole, and not a nice one either. Plus, he was sort of lacking in the personality department, and he kind of looked like a reject from a boy-band, and not a very good band, either. One O might have liked when she was a tween and didn’t know any better.

Marcus looked sort of uncomfortable, or as uncomfortable as he ever looked. Marcus was used to weird shit by now, living here with all of them, and he had a brilliant poker face. “Apparently they had a huge fight and now she’s refusing to skate with him. You can’t skate well with someone you hate.”

“Clarke hates _me_ ,” Bellamy pointed out, because, hey, she did. “But I need a partner. And she’s good.”

He thought of Raven. _I’d never - look, I’d never forgive myself if you let this stop you._

Clarke was good, and they had- well, they worked well together when they were on the same side, which, granted, had only happened once, but Bellamy didn’t have any other offers, and even if he had, Clarke was brilliant.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

****

He texted O and Raven at the same time.

**I’m skating with Clarke Griffin.**

Raven texted back first. Not surprising. Octavia had practise, and Raven was stuck in bed. **Nice. She’s good.**

 **Why isn’t she skating with Finn?** He typed. **I thought they were close.**

 **No idea** , came the response. **Finn won’t say. Says it’s her business.**

Well, then. That was reassuring on so many levels.

Octavia texted a few minutes later with a simple smiley face, and Bellamy sighed. He didn’t know what to make of that, but hey, Octavia did what she wanted. She liked Clarke, was friends with her, and told him frequently he needed to get over himself.

His phone pinged again- _one new message from Clarke Griffin._ **Kane said he’d talked to you about partners- seeing as Nationals are in six months, best to get started sooner rather than later. Is five am tomorrow good for you at the rink?**

Five? Bellamy goggled. Normally he got to the rink at six, but he’d heard that Clarke liked to start practising at half four each morning. He supposed he should be grateful she was going back half an hour for him.

 _Nobody ever got anywhere without hard work, Bellamy_ , he told himself. Several times. Still, it took a few minutes for him to work up the urge to type the words: **sure, princess. Five am it is. See you there.**

God. He was having regrets already, and they hadn’t even started yet. 


	2. nobody’s perfect, but everyone’s to blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus fixed him with a glare. “The way I see it, Bellamy, the problem you and Clarke have is respect. You don’t respect one another as skaters, as people, and that’s a big issue. That’s the whole foundation to a good figure skating partnership, and if you don’t respect one another, you’ll go nowhere.”
> 
> It’s their first practice session on the ice, and Bellamy has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: it’ll be like two days before the next update! the whole story will be finished before the Olympics are over! 
> 
> also me: this. 
> 
> Sorry. I forgot I had mock exams this week (yikes!!) and so you get this short chapter. On the bright side, next chapter things will happen. It’s gonna be great.

Bellamy liked to think of himself as a relatively calm guy. He liked to think he wasn’t the type to fly off the handle or lose his temper over nothing, and he thought he had good control over his anger- or, in the very least, better control than he had when he was sixteen or seventeen, wanting to fight the entire world, talking with his fists. 

That didn’t matter the next morning as he arrived at the rink, right on time, to find Marcus Kane standing next to Clarke on the ice, fucking grinning like this was all _excellent_ when Bellamy could barely keep his eyes open. His already black mood darkened further as Marcus started to speak. “Right, Bellamy, perfect! We’re going to do some team building exercises today, get you used to working as a team-“

“We’re going to what?” Bellamy interrupted. Clarke folded her arms, irritated, and Bellamy tried to reel back the aggression in his voice. He was happy to be here, truly. Truly. _Pyeongchang, Bellamy,_ he told himself. _Come on. Think of Pyeongchang._ “You do realise Nationals are in six months, right? Six months, and me and Clarke don’t have a routine, unless we use one of mine and Raven’s or one of her and Finn’s, and we don’t even know how to skate together. You want to spend time doing… What, exactly? _Team bonding?_ ”

“This wasn’t my idea,” Clarke snapped, “but I think it’s a good one. Come on, Bellamy. We can’t skate together if we hate one another.”

Right, he thought, balling his hands into fists. _And we’re having such a brilliant start. This is a fucking disaster. Jesus- I should never have listened to Octavia._

He made a mental note to remember that the next time Octavia suggested an idea to him. He didn’t think any of her ideas had ever ended up being good ones, to be honest. 

 _Pyeongchang_ , he repeated. _And Raven. Raven would be so disappointed if you didn’t make it to the Olympics. She would blame herself._

Raven was in bad enough shape already, and despite all of his flaws, he really did care about her.  “Whatever,” he said. “Whatever. Fine. Let’s go.”

At least they were on the ice. At least it wasn’t some weird trust fall exercise on the ground, or some kind of quiz he would have to take about Clarke. He wouldn’t put it past Marcus. He was kind of a hippie.

He skated onto the ice, relishing the feeling of it, just as he always did. Whenever he got onto the ice again, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief, like he was meeting an old friend after thinking he would never see them again. He had never thought that he wouldn’t be able to skate again (he was past that, by now) but Raven’s accident had made him more aware of how one misstep could make this all go wrong.

 _Raven_ would never be able to skate again. The same thing could happen to him. Even a few months out would cost him the chance to get into the Pyeongchang Olympics, and he would have to wait another four years for Beijing.

Four years. He’d been wanting this for so long, he didn’t know how not to want it. Didn’t know how he would be able to deal with it if he wasn’t selected. Didn’t know who to be, really, if he wasn’t Bellamy Blake, figure skater, Olympic hopeful. 

He shook himself out of the thoughts, skating to a stop next to Marcus. Clarke was looking at him oddly, he realised, a strange expression on her face. Sadness? Wistfulness? It was a stark contrast to the anger or annoyance usually written there when she was with him. 

“Right,” Marcus said, clapping his hands together. “We have - what- an hour and a half until most people will arrive. We’ll carry this on tomorrow, the next day- every day, in fact, until I think that you two are ready, along with general training. You two need to discuss training times, any you would prefer, any you can’t do, and of course the problem about the dance. Now, I want you, Bellamy, to skate something. I’ll pick the song, one you know, one you’ve danced to before, but I want you to choreograph it all now. On the spot.”

“What?” Bellamy blinked. “Now? But-“

Marcus fixed him with a glare. “The way I see it, Bellamy, the problem you and Clarke have is respect. You don’t respect one another as skaters, as people, and that’s a big issue. That’s the whole foundation to a good figure skating partnership, and if you don’t respect one another, you’ll go nowhere.”

That made sense, but, still. Bellamy wasn’t very good with spontaneous dances. He didn’t feel like this was the way to get Clarke to ‘respect’ him, or whatever.

Besides, he already respected Clarke as a skater. She was good. Very good. She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t, and he had been to plenty of competitions either with her or just to watch her. She had… A kind of charisma on the ice. It was like the dance was a story, and she was telling it, putting her heart and soul into it.

She’d landed a triple axel before. In training, yeah, but her and Marcus had been having serious talks about her trying it for Nationals. If she could do it, it would be a ticket to the Olympics for her and Finn. Or, now, her and Bellamy.

“An hour and twenty minutes left,” Marcus pointed out. “Don’t dither, Bellamy. If you aren’t committed, get out.”

Bellamy was pretty sure it had been an hour and a half two minutes ago, but he wasn’t about to argue. Instead he sighed, letting Marcus and Clarke skate to the edges of the ice and Marcus press play on his phone.

The speaker started to play a song, one Bellamy knew well. He’d skated to it before, when he was younger, and he knew all the beats, all the best places in the music to jump.

 _Nothing goes as planned,_ someone sang in the speakers. Bellamy started to skate, using his arms just like Marcus had always told him.

 _Skating isn’t a sport you just do with your legs, Bellamy_ , he always said. _Your entire body is in it, or you might as well not be there at all._

Jump, and twist, and land- triple toe loop. Bellamy had forgotten how much he relied on Raven, how used to - well, he never looked at her, really, during a dance, but he always knew she was there. She was with him, jumping at the exact same time, spinning.

Here was where he would have thrown her, here she would have been spinning with him.

_You’re in my veins, and I cannot get you out._

Jump. Jump again. Ignore Clarke’s eyes on him as he spun faster and faster, arms in the air.

_Nobody here's perfect, but everyone’s to blame._

Spin, and spin, and spin. Even if his eyes had been open, which they weren’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see Clarke and Marcus. 

He had to lose himself in the dance, in the movements of his skates on the ice, or else he would stop, think of Raven, falter like he had on his triple toe loop landing. 

Spin, and then finish, arms held high above his head, as the last notes rang out.

_Oh, you’re in my veins, and I -_

Arms looser. Then he stretched them out, like he would if he expecting applause, as the singers finished: _and I cannot get you out._

And hands down.

Pause.

Marcus was clapping as Bellamy skated back over, but Clarke wasn’t. Of course.

“That triple toe loop landing was messy,” she told him. “But the rest was decent.”

“I think you’re missing the point of the whole exercise,” Marcus began, but Bellamy didn’t quite care. Anger twisted in his gut, hot and fiery. 

“Show me what you’ve got then, princess,” he said sharply. “If you think you’re so good.”

Decent. Decent! That had been far better than ‘decent’, and she knew it. Besides, that triple toe loop hadn’t been that bad. Not Bellamy’s best, but he’d landed it, and to someone who didn’t know figure skating, you would barely be able to tell that he’d stumbled a little on the landing.

Marcus sighed, pressed a button on his phone, and a classical piece started to play, one Bellamy kind of knew, but Clarke started to smile from her start position, already confident of success.

Of course she was. She was Clarke fucking Griffin, and she didn’t know anything that wasn’t success. Not like Bellamy. He’d worked harder than anyone to get where he was, blood and sweat and tears.

Clarke hadn’t gotten things handed to her, and she was a good skater, but she certainly hadn’t worked as hard as Bellamy and Octavia.

 _And that,_ Bellamy realised grimly, _is the problem_.

Respect. He respected her skills, yes, but he didn’t really respect _her_. He knew just how hard he had worked, and he also knew that Clarke hadn’t worked half as hard.

No- everything she had had been handed to her. She was one of the most privileged people he had ever met. She was rich, and white, and cis, and straight. He, in comparison, was poor and Filipino and bisexual, and he had juggled work and Octavia and school and skating for years and years, and she had just had skating and school.

Clarke was skating on the ice now, but Bellamy could barely concentrate. That same anger was making a reappearance, thick and hot- he was so angry he could barely breathe. He didn’t even know where the anger was coming from. Sure, he had never liked Clarke, but this… This was something different. Maybe it was a build up of stress and disappointment from Raven’s fall. Maybe it was the way that the fear of failure tasted in the back of his throat, sharp and bitter. (Was it that he was afraid of failing, or was that taste simply desperation? Bellamy didn’t know.) 

 _Pyeongchang_ , Bellamy told himself, and, yes, that was desperation he felt now.

He didn’t have to like her. He just have to act like it, surely. Skating was like acting. Marcus always said that.

Skating was acting, and Bellamy, if nothing else, was a good skater- so he could pretend to like Clarke Griffin. 

The Olympics was everything that Bellamy had been aiming for his entire life - or most of it, anyway. Clarke could take him there, and then, afterwards, Bellamy would have time to find a new partner for Beijing. Echo, maybe, or Monroe. He didn’t even care. Someone who was good. Once he had given Clarke a fair shot, Raven and Octavia would get off his back about her, and he would be able to choose whoever else he wanted to skate with. 

Maybe that wasn’t fair to Clarke, but whatever. She was good enough for singles skating, if she couldn’t find a new partner, and Bellamy was confident Finn would take her back if she just asked. 

Filled with determination, Bellamy clapped with Marcus as Clarke skated back over. Truthfully, he hadn’t a clue what she had done in her routine, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice, but he fixed a smile on his face. His “well done, princess,” didn’t even sound too forced, and he felt his heart lift a little.

It was a plan. He only had to do this for a year and a half, go to Pyeongchang, hopefully not crash and burn (Clarke was good- he was good- Bellamy was cautiously optimistic) and then he would be able to leave this partnership and find someone else.

His smile was almost genuine at the thought. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy skated to ‘In My Veins’ by Andrew Belle, and the chapter title is taken from the same song. 
> 
> Also, I wrote a Bellarke soulmate AU where you see in shades of grey, but with every new person you love (not necessarily romantically) you gain a new colour. Check that out, please, because I’m super proud of it!

**Author's Note:**

> Title for both chapter and entire fic taken from Coldplay’s X&Y. 
> 
> Next update coming soon- probably in around a day or two. Normally I hate chapter fics, but I was worried about losing inspiration and also not publishing before the end of the Olympics, so I figured posting it would motivate me.


End file.
